Reconciliation
by Lin-ZB
Summary: On their annual visit to the graveyard, Maya and Nick happen to chance upon each other. They are forced to come to terms with how estranged they have become. SPOILERS APLENTY!
1. Twin Graves

"So Nick, how'd it go-oh. Oh no, Nick. Nick!"

"Maya…I, I don't want to talk about it."

"But, what'll you d-"

"I said, I don't want to talk about it!"

"Oh, o-okay…"

"Just, leave me alone, will you?"

"…Sure."

Phoenix stared hard at his desk, head in his hands, desperately suppressing his tears of despair. Loud footsteps, the slamming of a door, and the sobs of one helpless girl barely registered in his mind and wouldn't even be remembered until years later, and even then only in his nightmares.

------

The elders sure could hold a grudge, couldn't they?

Maya smiled ruefully as her fingers traced her sisters name, carved into glistening white marble. As the years passed, she had been able to reconcile the loss, not only of her older sister, but her best friend. Of course, she had found another person out in the world, but-

She shook her head. No, she was not going there. He had made it plain that they were never to speak again. That hadn't stopped her from sending him piles of Steel Samurai DVDs, childish they may be. Thinking of _him_ drew her gaze back to the graves at her feet. While the elders had refused to allow Mia a place in the traditional graveyard of Kurain, Maya had a sneaking suspicion that her older sister preferred the grave she had now. After all, she was right next to her lover.

Maya's slender fingers moved from Mia's grave to the small plaque resting between the two graves. She had commissioned the small plate to acknowledge the bond that Mia and Mr. Armando shared. It was simple, and had none of the usual references to love. Maya had felt that a heart was simply too cheesy for her sophisticated sister and the tragic love she had shared. So it had wound up as an engraving of two rings intertwined with one another. The inscription beneath the image read:

"Romeo and Juliet ain't got nothing on us."

Okay, okay, so maybe it wasn't the most appropriate thing for graveyard, but she'd taken it up with Mia, who'd in turn taken it up with Mr. Armando, and they both thought it was hilarious. So Maya was pleased with it.

The far off tolling of the church bell told Maya that it was one o' clock.

_Mmmmm, it's getting late_, she complained to herself. _I hate having to slip out of the village just to come visit their graves every year._

And it wasn't even the same time every year. Because of her duties as Master, Maya was constantly forced into a strict schedule that the elders, and the entire village, kept her to with a religious fervor. It was probably the result of her relative inexperience and the long absence of her mother, but she got the feeling that the village was a little overprotective of their Master. So it was difficult to get time off for herself, much less to leave the village. She'd begged six hours out of today, but only two could be spent honoring the dead. And furthermore, Maya refused to visit the graves on a day that wasn't significant in some way. One year it was Mia's birthday, the next the day she died, and the next the day Mr. Armando was poisoned, another the day he came out of the coma, then his birthday, and never once did she visit on the same date twice. It was infuriating.

Today was the last day of _that_ trial. It seemed more poignant to visit today, possibly because of Maya's personal involvement in incriminating Mr. Armando. Perhaps she could make arrangement for this to be the one day she had off every year. It felt very fitting, very right, that she should be here today.

Well, it was almost time for her to go, so she really should wrap up. The elegant spirit medium was already kneeling, so she bowed her head and clasped her hands for a moment of silent prayer.

------

Today was the one day of every year that he would don his old blue suit and go out to visit the graveyard. Since it was unusually cold this time of year, he wore a trench coat and his now-signature beanie. Every year this visit got more painful, because even as his life went on, here were reminders of what he had left behind, and whom he had hurt. He was glad of the collar on the coat; it would hide any expression of grief. And grief he had in plenty. This was particularly painful day for him.

February 9. So much had happened. So many ends were finally reached, but something began that day as well. Something that he had hoped would never end. But it was something that was killed, brutally and without warning, two months later.

Nick shook his head. There was no need to recall what had happened, to relive the painful separation that had followed the loss of his badge. In his desperation to forget what he had lost that day, he had ignored all attempts by his old friends to contact him. But he couldn't bring himself to throw away the piles of Steel Samurai discs that were sent to him, one by one, until every last episode, every last movie, every last re-release was sitting in his apartment. Then no more had come, and no more letters from a cheerful spirit medium that had accompanied him on his every adventure.

Finally, no ties to his past remained except two headstones linked by a humorous, yet painfully true plaque. Juliet never had to live with the agonizing hope that her Romeo would return, and Romeo had not spent five years in a coma from the actions of a devil, only to wake up and find his Juliet murdered. And, of course, Shakespeare had probably never thought that one vengeful spirit could cause the deaths of so many people.

Despite himself, Nick was beginning to feel like his younger self again. Thinking back on those horrifying few days brought back all of the emotions, all of the determination, of that confident defense attorney who usually remained a figment in his past.

So it was indeed Phoenix Wright, attorney at law, who was surprised by the sight of an elegant woman kneeling that the foot of the two graves he was going to visit.

She had long black hair, half of which was braided into an elaborate bun, and half of which fell to the ground she was kneeling on. A rich silk kimono fell in gentle waves around her form. The luxurious material was shades of rich purple with lighter embroidery, and the wide sash around her waist was of opposite coloration. She cut quite a figure, and every detail seemed to remind him of a clan of spirit mediums he thought he'd put behind him a long time ago.

As she studied her, her long-lashed eyes opened. They were a deep blue, almost black, with an air of gentle sorrow about them. Her face was fine-boned, with a pert nose and slender, expressive lips. Those lips twitched a little as she whispered something, finally settling in a sad smile as she began to stand up. The movement caused a red talisman to swing out on the chain that held it around the woman's neck. Phoenix recognized it immediately. It was the Masters token of Kurain village, found around the next of Misty Fey when she died. Only the Master could wear such a token, and the current Master of Kurain was…

"Maya?"

Her head snapped around so fast she stumbled and wound up clutching the headstone behind her for support. How long had it been since someone had called her Maya? Nowadays it was always "Master Maya" or "Miss Fey" or "Mystic Maya" (from Pearly, but she didn't really mind that). In fact, the last person to call her Maya, just plain Maya, had been Nick… And this strange man in the beanie and the stubble was not _her_ Nick.

"Um, yes. Maya Fey. And may I ask who you are?" she said, quickly regaining the mask of composure she wore as Master.

"You don't…?"

The man shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips.

"Of course you don't. You wouldn't, not under all this."

What was he talking about? Who was he?

"So, who are you?" she asked again, giving him a look of complete and utter stupefaction.

In response, the man reached up sheepishly and pulled off his beanie.

If he had expected a joyous outburst of tears and screaming, well, wasn't he in for a surprise.

"Oh, Phoenix, good to see you!" Maya gushed, but in such a way that it was painfully obvious she was manufacturing the emotion. "It's been what, seven years? Oh, doesn't time fly." She moved gracefully to his side, linking one of her silk-clad arms through his. "I'm sorry to rush you like this, but I must be getting back to the village. Ceremonial duties and all. But perhaps you would like to accompany me?"

Nick's stupefied expression told her all she needed to know. He had indeed expected her to fly at him and engulf him in a hug, and maybe cry into his shirt. But more than that, she could see that the lack of an over-enthusiastic greeting hurt him, and hurt deep. Somehow, he managed to stutter out an affirmative, and Maya swept him out of the graveyard and down to the train station.

But on the inside, a broken hearted nineteen-year-old raged against the memories that were swiftly returning. There was anger over being pushed away, despair over losing a close friend, and the awful, gut wrenching pain of her mother's death. And worst of all was the fact that she was forced to deal with it alone. This girl was not thinking straight, she only wanted to make him understand every bit of pain she had felt, and understand that it was definitely, irrevocably, unambiguously, all his fault.


	2. Confrontation

The train ride was unbearably uncomfortable. If Nick had expected anything from Maya, it wasn't this. This cold, detached manner more suited to her demonic cousin than the peppy assistant he had known. Seven years was a long time, sure, but what had happened to her? Why was she so different? Had something happened in Kurain to hurt her?

But he couldn't very well ask her on the train.

"So, Phoenix, how have you been? I've heard snippets, rumors, nothing solid."

"Oh, I, uh," he stammered, unused to talking to the ice queen across from him. "Well, I have an adopted daughter, Trucy-"

"Oh, what's she like? I'll bet she's the sweetest thing!" Maya interrupted, her own voice dripping with fake sugar.

"Yeah, she's a magician…in training," Nick said thoughtlessly, proud of his little girl.

"Is that so?"

Maya's voice was ice, colder than ice. The sudden, horrible stab of guilt hearing it nearly made Nick double over. It wasn't his fault that Trucy reminded him so much of Maya! He hadn't meant to use Maya's signature "in training" tag. It was just… when he looked at his daughter, it made his heart swell to see that she was becoming so much like… Like who? Who was Maya to him at this point? Why did he feel so pleased when he saw the similarities between the two of them? Or at least, between Trucy and the Maya he used to know.

"Perhaps you had better call home." Maya's frigid voice pierced his thoughts. "I'm sure you wouldn't want her to get worried about you."

Maya was looking away, her eyes heavily lidded with scorn and her head held high. Again he was shocked, and terrified, by the resemblance between Maya and Dahlia. It was unnatural.

But wait. What if, what if Dahlia had somehow managed to possess Maya's body against her will! Oh god, then this was quite possibly the worst scenario he could ever have found himself in. There was no doubt that the violent redhead still harbored a deep grudge against him, Maya, and anyone else connected to his past.

"U-uh-huh. I'll do that." The words were forced out of his mouth as he ducked his head, searching for his cell phone.

-------

Alright, so _maybe_ the Dahlia impersonation was a little too much. Maybe. But still! Why on earth did he describe his kid that way? It felt almost like…like he'd found a replacement for her. And that really stung. Actually, just seeing him had reopened a deep wound on her soul. Somehow she had functioned with it for all these years, pushing aside the pain with duty. But seeing him again just killed a part of her she had completely forgotten about.

The rest of the train ride passed in awkward silence after Nick finished his call, telling Trucy that he would probably be out until late. Maya refused to look at him, instead gazing constantly out the window. But she could feel his eyes on her, and sense the turbulent emotions running through his mind.

_Good_, she thought vengefully. _Maybe if I give you enough of a scare, you'll apologize._

But, come to think of it, she didn't really want an apology. That seemed too…simple. Everything was too complex to fixed with a simple apology, and besides, she didn't really think she'd be able to accept one, anyway. Maybe from the Nick she used to know, but not this stranger sitting across from her on the train.

She resisted the urge to sigh and slump over, instead maintaining her regal façade. Being master had taught her a thing or two about hiding her emotions.

--------

When the train finally pulled into Kurain, Nick was ready to scream. He didn't think he had ever been so on edge. This new Maya seemed to be watching him for any false move, any excuse to snap at him. And it was, quite frankly, horrific. Again and again his mind returned to the same topic. Why was she like this?

It wouldn't do any good to just ask her, he was sure. It would require a massive amount of tact just to tease the answer out of her, and Nick was sure he didn't possess it. He was even more sure when a sprightly medium bounded out of the manor and struck him speechless.

She was around sixteen and dressed in the classic acolyte robes with a bright blue magatama around her neck. Her hair was pulled back into twin loops that fed into a long, brown ponytail that fell to her shoulder blades. But what he found most astonishing was the cold look with which Pearl Fey regarded him.

"I'm glad that you're back, Mystic Maya," she said, bowing slightly.

"Thanks, Pearly," Maya replied with a grin that seemed like her old self. It was gone in a flash. "Would you please escort our guest, Mr. Wright, to a waiting room? I believe he will be having dinner with us," she paused. "And I wish to speak with him beforehand."

"Of course," Pearl said, moving to take Nick's arm. "Right this way, Mr. Wright."

He didn't dare smile at the bad pun. Pearl was almost openly hostile towards him, more so even than Maya. What was going on here?

"So I hear you have a daughter?" she asked.

It was a seemingly innocent question, but he thought he knew where she was going with it.

"Ah, yes. She's adopted, her name's Trucy."

"Oh, that's nice." Even though her tone was the same, Pearl had visibly relaxed.

But only a little.

The rest of the walk passed in silence until they reached the guest room. Pearl slid the door open and gestured for Nick to enter.

"Mystic Maya will be along shortly, I'm sure," she told him before turning to leave.

He listened to her steady footstep as she left. Suddenly, the speed increased and he swore he heard someone cry, "Mr. Nick, how could you?"

But when he ran to the door, Pearl was gone.

------

The papers in front of her only blurred more the longer she looked at them. There was an unexpected amount of deskwork involved with being the Master, and Maya hated deskwork. Why else had she found being Nick's assistant so much fun?

No, not him again, she berated herself. Focus Maya, focus!

And the papers still blurred.

Alright, fine. She was distracted, confused, and wasting her time pretending to work. She had promised that she would talk to Nick before dinner, and it was getting close to five o' clock. Standing slowly, Maya straightened her kimono and flicked her hair back behind her shoulders. There was a small mirror on the desk, so she checked the small amount of make-up she wore for smudges. None, even though she'd swiped at her eyes more than once over the course of the day. Still, she remained in the room, making minute adjustments to invisible problems.

Once there was no way she could continue stalling, she turned to go. As she reached for the door, she was surprised at how tightly balled her fists were. Forcing her hands to relax, Maya swept down the hallways of Fey Manor and to the door of the room Phoenix was waiting in.

She stood there for a minute of eternity, taking a few deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm herself. Relax Maya, relax. There's really no reason to be nervous. Except maybe she was pushing away someone who really was sorry, really did know that he had made a mistake, and maybe, just maybe, she realized that she needed to be forgiven as well. After all, this was _Nick_. He didn't look as if his personality had changed, just his appearance. And how could she fault him for that?

With a sudden turnabout of emotion, Maya found herself entering the room with an apology on her tongue.


	3. Games for Two

Unfortunately for Maya, Nick had realized that two could play her game. He'd pulled his beanie out of his coat pocket and pulled it over his hair, shading his eyes. When Maya slid the door open, he was lounging on a couch, head down, looking for all the world like he was sleeping. Lazily, he forced one eye open.

"Ah, Miss Fey, you're here," he drawled. "I heard you wanted to talk to me?"

Any and all intentions Maya had of making up crashed to the ground.

"Well naturally," she said, that sickly sweet smile returning to her face, along with her resolve to make Nick understand what he'd done to her all those years ago. "It's been seven years, hasn't it? I've been _dying_ to catch up."

"Only natural," he retorted, grinning insincerely. "Seven years is a long time."

"Isn't it?" Maya sighed breathily, settling herself on a low chair. "So, what do you do now?" An ever so subtle emphasis was placed on the "now."

"I'm a pianist and poker player at the Borsht Bowl Club," was the cool reply. "Trucy works as a magician and Justice is a defense attorney."

The deadpan stare Maya gave him made him remember that she hadn't really met Apollo.

"Apollo Justice, Trucy's half brother. He works for me now."

"Interesting."

The conversation dragged on, each party refusing to show any weakness in their icy mentalities. They confabulated about trivial details, how their jobs were going, what was new, even briefly bringing up the weather.

Both were almost entirely drained when the dinner bell finally rung.

"Ah, time for dinner!" Maya exclaimed, swirling up from her seat. She opened the door and indicated that Nick should precede her. As he stepped out, a gust of cold air nearly blew his trench coat open. He clutched at it, keeping it closed, but not before the bottoms of his coat flew up, revealing a snatch of old blue cloth. It did not escape Maya's attention, but the only outside reaction was the raising of one elegant eyebrow.

"My, it's awfully cool up here, isn't it?" Nick commented.

"Oh, you get used to it," Maya said, taking a deep breath of the chill air. "You know, training and such."

"Ah, of course."

-------

Dinner was a horrifyingly tense affair. It was Maya, Phoenix, Pearl, and a few acolytes who were nearing the completion of their training. The Master and her guest were on opposite sides of the table and speaking with such courtesy it felt like the air between them was pulled as taut as a bowstring. Midway through the meal, the youngest acolyte dropped her bowl. She retrieved it swiftly and placed in on the table, blushing so furiously she looked sunburnt. Her two companions looked consolingly at her, one moving to sweep up the spilled meat and rice while the other reached for the serving platter, which Pearl silently passed her.

One by one, the other acolytes finished their meals and left, leaving the three at the table. Pearl shot glances at Mystic Maya and Mr. Nick, the tiniest hint of a childish pout forming on her lips. She swallowed the last bite of her food slowly and took a deliberate sip of tea. Then she was gone, running out of the dining hall with a choked sob in her wake.

Across the table, two pairs of panicked eyes locked gazes and as one, they leapt from the table to follow the sound of Pearl's crying.

They found the sixteen-year-old medium curled up next to the table that the Sacred Urn rested on. It looked as if she had tripped and then pulled herself into a miserable ball. She was wailing as if she was nine again and the same urn on the table was shattered across the ground.

Instinctively, both Maya and Phoenix ran to Pearl's side and wrapped their arms around her. Maya began murmuring into her ear, asking what was wrong as if she was her mother. Pearl responded between sobs, making the two adults hold her even tighter. After what seemed like ages, her lamentations died down into shaky breaths, and eventually into silence.

"Thank you Mystic Maya," she said quietly. "And you to, Mr. Nick."

They looked up at each other and grinned sheepishly for a moment, and then Pearl began to detangle herself from their arms. Her eyes were red-rimmed, but there was a sudden sparkle in them.

"Now you two had better make up, okay?" she ordered playfully, turning and racing away down the corridor. In shock, Nick and Maya locked eyes again. This time, there was no façade, no false pretenses. And they both understood the heartache of the other in a heartbeat.

Nick stood first and offered his hand timidly to Maya. She took it equally as timidly, allowing herself to be pulled up. They stood silently for a while, looked anywhere but at each other.

"I-I'm sorry," Maya spoke softly, brokenly. "It's just that, well, I was hurt, Nick. Hurt pretty badly. And I guess…I guess I didn't think about you. I mean, I don't know what you must have gone throu-"

She was cut off by Nick's powerful arms wrapping around her.

"No, no, no Maya, don't say that," he whispered into her hair. "You at least tried to make contact again. I didn't- I didn't think I could face you. So I just turned my back on everyone." At this point both of them had tears streaming down their cheeks, but neither one made a move to dry them.

Then, taking her completely by surprise, Nick grasped her shoulders and looked her seriously in the eye.

_He couldn't be thinking…Could he?_

His lips brushed hers, lightly at first, then more assertively as hers parted in response.

_So he was._

"What was that for?" she gasped when they both emerged, breathless from the kiss.

"I thought words would be too simple for an apology," Nick responded in kind.

"You were right."

And this time, there was no hesitation.


End file.
